


Bed of Roses

by angelofthequeers



Series: Beelicious [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Awesome Dean Winchester, Because really what else do you expect from me, Birthday Sex, Castiel Has Self-Worth Issues, Castiel has Anxiety, Crying Castiel, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean quotes Bon Jovi when fucking Cas, Dean's Birthday, Flowers, Fluff, He's freaking amazing alright, I had to do that spaghetti thing okay, Kissing, Lady and the Tramp (1955) References, Language of Flowers, M/M, Playful Sex, Protective Dean Winchester, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 10:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11507940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelofthequeers/pseuds/angelofthequeers
Summary: When Cas learns that Dean's birthday is only a week away, he's determined to make it the best birthday that Dean's ever had.If he could just work past his own issues and insecurities, that would be utterly fantastic. But Dean's always going to be there for him, even if Cas doesn't feel like he deserves him.





	Bed of Roses

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own SPN.
> 
> Come for the puns, stay for the FUCKING FEELS WHY DID I LISTEN TO THIS SONG WHILE WRITING
> 
> Also, it’s true: Jess DOES share a birthday with Dean. Look it up.

 

“Cas, I could kiss you,” Sam says, his voice filled with relief.

“Please don’t. I don’t think Dean would approve.” Cas shifts, securing the store phone under his head so that it doesn’t slip from his ear while he arranges the tulip shipment he’s just received so that he can put them out for sale. “And Jess wouldn’t be very happy with you.”

Sam laughs on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, I know. I was just so worried about what to do for her birthday.”

“Just give her the flowers I told you to buy. You can’t go wrong with roses and tulips.” Cas lets out a noise of frustration when he accidentally bends the stalk of a tulip beyond repair, so he takes the flower out and sets it aside with his imperfect ones.

“Yeah but everyone gets roses. And tulips are common as well. I just – I wanna show her that I’m serious, you know? That I’ve put some thought into this. I mean, you can get away with roses – you’re a florist, so you know what it means. But I want to show Jess that I’m thinking about what she means to me.”

“I doubt that she would judge you because of what flowers you buy but…perhaps some daisies, to show her your loyal love. And you have a few varieties of lilies to choose from. White lilies will tell her that she’s pure and it’s heavenly to be with her, while lilies of the valley will express your happiness to be with her and how sweet she is to you. Calla lilies just mean ‘beauty’. Just stay away from orange lilies, as they mean ‘hatred’.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line.

“Sam?”

“Sorry, just writing this all down. Anything else?”

“Justicia. They mean ‘the perfection of female loveliness’. And orchids are a good way to tell her that you love her and find her beautiful. There are so many different flowers you can use. Just be mindful of which ones you choose, because not all flowers look good together in a bouquet.”

“Right. Thanks, Cas. You’re a true friend.”

Cas smiles down at his tulips, cheeks warm.

“It was my pleasure, Sam. But whatever you do, Jess will love you and appreciate your effort. That is, so long as you don’t give her flowers with negative meanings. I can link you to a website that I trust if you like.”

“I’d love that. Anyway, what are you doing for Dean?”

“For Dean?” Cas frowns. “What do you mean?”

“His birthday. It’s on the same day as Jess’ – and man, I laughed when I found out.” Sam pauses. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“No…” Cas racks his brain. Now that he thinks about it, Dean _has_ been acting odd for the past few days. He’s become more withdrawn, still responding to Cas’ kisses and affection but hesitant to initiate anything himself. “He’s been rather distant as of late.”

Sam sighs.

“Yeah, that sounds like Dean. Look, Cas…he hasn’t had a good run when it comes to birthdays, okay? I mean, he always went out of his way to make mine as special as he could, but nobody ever cared about his. Dad was too busy drinking to do more than wish him a happy birthday – if he even remembered – and I didn’t even know when his birthday was until I was maybe five years old. He didn’t even tell Bobby and Ellen until they insisted that we move in with them. And he was _nineteen_ by then.”

Cas exhales softly. That does sound very much like Dean.

“Well, I’ll have to do something special for him,” he declares. “I’ll make it the best birthday he’s ever had.”

Sam’s silent for a few moments again.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, Cas,” he finally says. This time, Cas’ face flushes hot.

“I – you’ve done far more for him,” he says lamely, pushing the tulips aside. “You’re his brother.”

“I was a self-absorbed teenager, okay? I was too busy with my own issues to really be there for him. And now I’m over here in California. But Cas…I haven’t seen him this happy for as long as I can remember. I almost didn’t recognise him at Thanksgiving because of how happy he was.”

Cas’ face grows even hotter and he ducks his head, a small smile crossing his lips.

“Thank you, Sam. I’ll make this birthday the best one he’s ever had.”

“Damn right you will.”

* * *

 

Cas only works a half day on Tuesday. He doesn’t like to make a habit of changing his opening hours – yes, he’s his own boss, but he does depend on this store for an income and it’s not good customer service to mess around with opening hours – but this is a special occasion.

So he waits until after Dean’s usual lunch time visit before hurrying to the door, checking that Dean’s gone, then flipping the sign to CLOSED and attaching a small note to the door to satisfy customer curiosity. He doesn’t close till five on weekdays, and Dean usually takes the morning shift at Bobby’s and finishes at three so that they can spend their evenings together. The only way he’s going to have enough time and energy to set this up is to cut his own working day short.

Counting the till feels like it takes forever and Cas can’t grab his birthday present for Dean and leave quick enough. He heads straight to the store from work to grab the ingredients needed for a basic spaghetti, along with a store-baked pie; his skills only just extend to spaghetti and other simple dishes like that without adding more complex things like pie into the mix. He also makes a detour on his way to the checkout, swiping a bottle of lube and a box of condoms and dropping them into the basket with warm cheeks.

So what if he’s slept with Dean heaps of times? It’s still never going to get any less embarrassing.

By the time he arrives home, it’s already three. He winces upon checking the time; good thing he’d decided to take the rest of the day off, because it’s taken an hour and a half just to _buy_ everything. Now he has to set it all up.

His phone buzzes while still in his hand. Cursing as he tries to drop the bags on the ground without damaging anything, he unlocks his phone and sees that he’s got a message from Dean.

_where r u? beelicious is closed_

_I have something I need to do_

_u ok?_

_I’m fine, Dean. I’ll tell you when I want you to come over_

_if ur sure_

_i just worry about u_

_ur real important 2 me_

_fuck im such a chick_

Cas smiles fondly at the last messages, heat blossoming in his stomach.

_You’re important to me too, Dean_

_I promise I’m fine. I’ll see you tonight_

_k xx gonna go annoy Jo then_

The first thing he does is put the pie in the fridge, then stack all of the spaghetti ingredients on the kitchen bench so that he can use them later. He then grabs a vase for Dean’s birthday bouquet, taking at least five minutes to arrange them just right on the coffee table.

It’s as he’s admiring the flowers, hoping that Dean likes everything he’s doing tonight, when the dark thoughts begin to strike. Dean had mentioned going to see Jo now – Jo, the woman who’s pretty much his sister. What’s Cas even doing here? Surely Dean would want to spend his birthday with his true family rather than the boyfriend he’s only known for nearly five months.

“But Sam said that nobody makes a big deal out of his birthday,” Cas mumbles to himself. And what if that’s just how Dean prefers it? What if he’s not one for birthday pies and celebrations?

Fuck. Cas runs a hand through his hair, tugging. He should know Dean by now! Five months and he doesn’t even know if Dean prefers to just not celebrate things! He _had_ enjoyed their Christmas dinner with Bobby and Ellen and Jo, but that’s _Christmas_.

But maybe that desire is born out of self-worth issues, so Cas _has_ to do this. He _has_ to make Dean feel important and loved.

But again, what if Dean’s just not into that stuff? What if he’s just setting himself up for one big fuck-up? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d made a total idiot of himself. And he _knows_ Dean won’t mock him or treat him like shit for it – he _knows_ – but how can he believe what his own mind’s telling him right now? How can he believe his mind over his own experiences?

Idly, Cas realises that he’s pacing the living room, working himself up into a panic. He forces himself to stop and take a deep breath. Driving himself into an anxiety attack won’t help. That would _really_ fuck the whole day up. Maybe he should start on dinner. Yeah, that’ll help. Dean’s always up for dinner, birthday or not.

 _‘But you can’t cook nearly as well as him,’_ a nasty little voice whispers in his head. _‘You can’t really do anything as well as him, can you?’_

Cas growls and kicks his couch.

“SHUT UP!” he yells, grabbing his own hair again. “I know! I know I’m not good enough for him!”

“Cas?”

Cas’ blood freezes in his veins. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turns to see Dean standing in the doorway, the look of concern on the man’s face leaving a stone of nausea settling in his stomach.

“Dean,” he croaks. Dean approaches him cautiously, eyes travelling from him to the flowers and then to the bags on the kitchen bench.

“What’s goin’ on, Cas? You shut Beelicious early, tell me not to come over until you say so, and I find you about to have an attack?”

Cas tries to back away but he’s frozen in place, blood rushing in his ears as his heart races, nausea curdling his insides. He jerks violently when Dean reaches him and gently takes his hands, thumbs rubbing over the backs of them.

“I’m fine.” But Cas knows he’s not fooling anyone. “I swear, Dean.”

“You’re not fine. What’s all that bullshit about you not being good enough for me?”

Heat suddenly rushes through his body, melting the ice that’s frozen him to the spot.

“Nothing! I told you, I’m fine!”

He wrenches his hands out of Dean’s. Before Dean can say anything, he’s stumbling to his bedroom, but a hand closes around his wrist before he can slam the door shut.

“Cas.”

He struggles as Dean tugs him over to the couch but Dean’s far stronger than he is, so he’s powerless to resist.

“Dean – let me go!” he snaps. But instead, he’s pulled down into Dean’s lap and held tightly, despite his furious struggling. “Dammit, Dean, just let me –”

“Work yourself up and stay in your shitty headspace?” Dean says, stroking his hair. “C’mon, Cas, I’m not fucking leaving you. And you wouldn’t leave me if our roles were reversed.”

Cas shudders and weakly hits Dean’s shoulder when his boyfriend kisses him on the head.

“I hate you,” he says, his voice cracking. Dean just kisses him again, still stroking his hair.

“I know. You’re okay, Cas.”

Though he doesn’t exactly cry, Cas shakes and trembles in Dean’s arms as he winds down from his mini attack, Dean murmuring soothing things and still carding his fingers through Cas’ hair. While part of Cas never wants Dean to let him go, another part of him knows that Dean’s going to bring it up soon, and then he’ll learn just how silly his boyfriend really is.

“What happened?” Dean says when Cas starts to shake again. “I was a bit worried when I saw you’d closed Beelicious early. You been feeling alright today?”

Cas lets out a long sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I’ve ruined everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, baby. What’s got you so worked up?”

“I – today was supposed to be perfect, Dean. It’s your birthday! You shouldn’t have to comfort your pathetic boyfriend on your birthday.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Dean growls. “Don’t you ever fucking say that about yourself. And how do you know it’s my birthday?”

“…Sam told me when asking for advice on what to give Jess for hers. He told me that you’ve never had a good birthday. I wanted to – to surprise you.” He laughs bitterly. “I guess I lived up to that, didn’t I?”

“Come on, Cas! You didn’t have to do anything for my birthday. ‘S just another day.”

Cas makes a wild gesture.

“ _Exactly_! You said you were going to hang out with Jo and then I realised that I was being _selfish_ by keeping you here tonight, instead of letting you celebrate it with your true family. Then I realised that you might not even want a celebration and – and I’ve fucked up so much before, I didn’t want to upset you, and I’m not _like_ you, Dean, I can’t do _anything_ like you can –”

He pauses to take a deep breath, burying his face in Dean’s chest.

“You can cook and you can fix cars and you can drive and you’re so _smart_ and you’ve got the _most amazing_ family who loves you – so it wasn’t fair of me to keep you to myself tonight – and you can do _everything_ , Dean, and what can I do? Arrange fucking flowers! All I can do is sell flowers and – and turn into a weeping mess because poor me, I have _issues_!”

A fresh wave of tears comes pouring out, dampening Dean’s shirt as Cas does his best to suffocate himself in the cloth.

“And n-now I’ve ruined your b-birthday,” Cas hiccups. “It was s-supposed to be s-special…”

“Dammit, Cas.” Dean lifts his chin, and Cas is floored to see that Dean doesn’t look pissed or tired of him like he’d feared; instead, the man’s smiling softly, and he leans in and kisses Cas on the lips sweetly. “You already make everything special. I don’t need anything else.”

Cas sniffles, hiding his face in Dean’s chest again.

“I’m sorry,” he says miserably. “I don’t know why you put up with me.”

“Okay, we are _not_ having this chat again.” Dean raises Cas’ head again, face harder this time. “I like you. What do I need to do to get it through your head, Cas? I put up with you because I like you, which I’m sure is why you put up with _my_ shit. I’m not gonna leave you over one fuck-up – which this _isn’t_.”

Dean kisses Cas again, resting his forehead on Cas’.

“Yeah, you can’t cook,” he says. “You can’t fix cars. You can’t do the shit I can do. But I can’t make people happy by giving ‘em ways to tell others how they feel. I can’t make someone fall deeper and deeper for me every day just by – just by _existing_.”

“I beg to differ,” Cas mutters. Dean lightly swats him.

“It’s not about whether you got more skills. It’s about whether you make me happy – and you _do_ , Cas, you make me so fucking happy just by living. I love wakin’ up next with you all on top of me. I love how your face just lights up when I walk into Beelicious at lunchtime. I love how beautiful you are when we’re – y’know – when we’re havin’ sex and you’re coming undone and you just _trust_ me to do that to you. I love how much of a goddamn angel you are because you’re so kind and giving and understanding.”

Cas sniffs to stop himself from crying like a baby again. Dean’s still stroking his hair, and now he runs his other hand up and down Cas’ back.

“You make me so damn happy, Cas. And you make me have fucking chick flick moments, like now. I _hate_ chick flick moments.”

“You love them,” Cas teases thickly. “Don’t deny it.”

Dean snorts and tugs on his hair gently.

“Fuck you. I’ll never tell.”

With a watery chuckle, Cas leans up and presses his lips to Dean’s, receiving a small hum and a kiss back in response.

“And don’t give me that bullshit about true family,” Dean says with an air of finality. “You’re part of that true family whether you like it or not.”

Cas goes still in Dean’s arms. Dean swears softly.

“Too soon?”

No. It’s not too soon. It’s absolutely _perfect_ , and Cas gives a thoroughly non-verbal approval that leaves Dean breathless and staring at him like – damn it – like he hung the moon and the stars, and it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

“And for the record, I don’t want anything for my birthday except you,” Dean says. “Our date nights are perfect.”

“So I suppose you don’t want the pie that’s in the fridge for you?” Cas says. Dean physically perks up.

“You bought me pie? God, you’re the best, Cas.”

Cas’ cheeks fill with warmth as he nuzzles into the crook of Dean’s neck.

“You deserve it, Dean.”

They sit there for a little while longer, until Dean’s stomach rumbles and he gets up to cook dinner, much to Cas’ dismay. He’s deaf to Cas’ insistence that he sit down and not have to cook on his birthday, but Cas is eating his words in half an hour when Dean makes the best spaghetti he’s _ever_ tasted, served in a massive bowl that they share.

“I didn’t know you were a Disney sap,” Cas teases, shovelling a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth with an almost erotic groan. Dean shifts noticeably in his seat.

“Shuddup,” he grumbles. “You’d be Lady, you stupid, beautiful dick.”

How many times has Cas blushed tonight? He’s lost count.

“And you’d be Tramp, with your rugged good looks,” he says simply. Dean blinks, still for a moment, then grins and feels around in the bowl for a long strand of spaghetti.

“You wanna?” he says. Cas rolls his eyes to high heaven but he’s smiling widely.

“If you insist,” he says with an air of mock reluctance. He opens his mouth to take one end of the strand inside, and then Dean takes the other and they suck the spaghetti into their mouths until their lips meet in the middle. But the kiss is brief, since both of them end up laughing too hard to sustain it.

“Yes, you really hate chick flick moments,” Cas says teasingly, wiping his eyes. Dean lightly slaps him on the head.

“Shut your mouth, asshole. You – you do _things_ to me.”

His smile softening, Cas leans over and kisses Dean on the cheek.

“You do things to me too,” he says simply, setting the half-finished bowl on the table. He gestures at the roses. “As they’ll tell you.”

“Oh, really?” Dean pulls Cas into his lap, latching on to Cas’ neck with his mouth. Cas sighs and tips his head back, giving Dean full access to his throat. “Care to share?”

“The – oh – orange roses mean – ‘fascination’,” Cas says with difficulty, because Dean’s mouth is absolutely amazing and he’s growing hard in his pants from the hickey that Dean’s currently sucking into his throat. “And – and the red ones – _Dean, your mouth_ – they mean ‘love, respect, beauty – I – you know –’”

Dean stiffens for the tiniest fraction of a second before he’s pulling away from Cas’ throat and capturing his mouth.

“Wanna show me?” Dean murmurs. Cas shivers and digs his fingers into Dean’s shoulders.

“ _Please_.”

Half an hour later finds Cas writhing on his back with three of Dean’s fingers inside him, his chest and belly and inner thighs very thoroughly marked up with blossoming bruises. He’s floating again, drifting in that headspace that he finds himself in when he’s so surrounded by Dean, and his vision is fuzzy while Dean’s smiling face above his is crystal clear.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Dean says, running his other hand down Cas’ stomach as he hits Cas’ prostate with his fingers. Cas gasps at the pleasure that jolts through him, making him choke on his own breath and curl in on himself. “You got no idea what you do for me, Cas. _To_ me.”

Cas whines, fucking down on Dean’s fingers and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Now, Dean, please,” he pleads. He lets out a sound of disappointment when Dean’s fingers slide out of him, but he’s soothed by the sound of a foil packet being torn open and he opens his eyes to see Dean rolling the condom onto his cock. Cas shivers at the sight. No matter how many times he’s had sex with Dean – how many times he’s held that thing in his hand, or had it in his mouth and down his throat, or taken it _inside_ him – he still finds himself speechless at how breathtaking Dean is, and how amazing he is with his cock.

Maybe one day, he’ll finally top Dean. Maybe he’ll eventually build up that confidence to sink into Dean’s heat, to feel his lover around his own cock. But for now, he’s perfectly happy to take Dean inside him and never let go.

“You ready?” Dean says softly, tossing the lube aside and crawling on top of Cas. Cas shivers when he feels the head of Dean’s cock against his entrance.

“I’m always ready for you, Dean.”

“Fuck.” Dean grits his teeth as he slides inside, and Cas groans long and low and wraps his legs around Dean’s waist. “Fuck you. Fuck what you’ve done to me.”

“What?” is all Cas can sigh as he clenches around Dean, relishing the feel of his lover’s cock inside him. He’s never felt so loved during sex as he does when Dean’s taking care of him, and he has to throw his arms around Dean’s neck and bury his face in Dean’s collar to prevent all of these emotions inside him from spilling over.

“Made me soft.” Dean starts to move, punching the breath out of Cas. Icy hot pleasure tingles in Cas’ gut, wrenching a soft moan from deep in his chest. “Gonna grow a fuckin’ pair of ovaries soon.”

“Stop being so sexist,” Cas says breathlessly. Dean laughs, his eyes flicking over to the roses that they’d brought with them and placed on the bedside table.

“Fuck, Cas, what you mean to me,” he groans, his hips pumping harder and sending surges of electricity sparking through Cas’ body with each thrust. Cas lets go of his neck to fumble for his hands, squeezing them tightly and laughing breathily in delight when Dean squeezes back. “Baby, you’re all that I need.”

“Oh, you can’t be serious,” Cas says with another breathy laugh. He groans and slams his head back on the pillow beneath him when Dean strikes his prostate, and Dean clearly takes note of that angle because he seems to strike it with practically every thrust afterwards. “You – you can’t – quote Bon Jovi in bed with me.”

“Why not?” Dean squeezes his hands, face lit up with more joy than Cas can ever remember seeing. He thrusts faster, laughs, and breaks into song. “ _I want to lay you down in a bed of roses, for tonight I sleep on a bed of nails_ –”

“Oh my god,” Cas says, then moans loudly as the familiar hot tingles start to spread up his spine and through his limbs. “I’m gonna – Dean – I’m gonna come –”

Dean squeezes his hands tightly and continues his song.

“ _Oh, I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is, and lay you down on a bed of roses_ –”

It takes one more thrust for Cas to finally fall over that edge, his hips arching into Dean’s cock as white-hot heat overtakes his whole body. He’s floating so high, soaring in the clouds, that his crash back to earth as he sags from his climax takes his breath away.

“Oh my god,” he repeats, because that’s all his mouth will say. Dean, meanwhile, keeps thrusting frantically, crushing his mouth to Cas’ in a furious kiss as he seizes up and comes. Cas’ breath hitches because the feeling of Dean’s cock swelling inside him is…indescribable. He could spend all day trying to find some way of describing that amazing feeling but there’s no way he could succeed.

“I don’t know why I associate with you,” Cas says, his voice slightly slurred, stroking Dean’s hair as the man collapses on top of him. Though he _is_ considerate enough to fall enough to the side that he’s not crushing Cas. “You freaking loser.”

Dean laughs breathlessly as he fumbles on the bedside table for the tissues that they use to clean themselves up.

“Hey, Bon Jovi rocks,” he protests, dropping the tissues and his secured condom over the side of the bed and rolling onto his back so that Cas can snuggle into his side as usual. “On occasion.”

“Mm hm.” But Cas has to lean up and kiss him, running a hand down Dean’s chest like this beautiful man in bed with him will disappear if he’s not careful. And that’s the kicker, isn’t it? His worst fear has always been people realising that he’s useless and expendable, then tossing him aside when they no longer need him. He would be _crushed_ if Dean did that to him, because they’ve only been together for nearly five months but he feels something so deep for this man that naming it would terrify him.

“Best birthday ever,” Dean sighs contentedly, relaxing into the pillows and holding Cas closer to him. “And I got the best birthday gift ever right here next to me.”

Cas’ chest swells and he has to hide his face in the crook of Dean’s neck to avoid bursting into tears.

“Happy birthday, Dean,” he says, his voice muffled. He feels the rumble of Dean’s laugh in the man’s chest, and he shivers when Dean’s fingers start to card through his hair in that way he loves. As he inhales the scent of motor oil and alcohol, mixed with the musky smell of sex, his whole body melts and he throws an arm over Dean’s chest so that he can cling to his boyfriend even more.

Then the terrifying realisation hits him: he’s falling deeply in love with Dean Winchester.


End file.
